


Corset Ribbon

by Valentine_Surlaint



Series: Val's Kinktober 2020 fills [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Corsetry, M/M, Office Sex, Sexual Humor, i did way too much research into corset anatomy and history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27412459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valentine_Surlaint/pseuds/Valentine_Surlaint
Summary: To be fair Valentine doesn’t need to wear it but it does help keep his clothes in order during battle. And in Haurchefant’s defense, he hadn’t anticipated learning that Valentine wore corsets.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Val's Kinktober 2020 fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002726
Kudos: 13





	Corset Ribbon

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5) Valentine de Surlaint/Haurchefant Greystone  
> Fandom; FFXIV  
> Prompt; Corset/Corsetry
> 
> Only the OC Valentine belongs to me.

It’s not even a nice looking corset in Valentine’s opinion. He owns nicer looking ones to wear with his healing garments when he’s at a nobles’ party – not that he ever wants to be at parties – or ones that he wears when he’s not in the field and is in a city.  


Plain white, laces up the back, made of rough cotton instead of some kind of silk or embroidered in a lace with frills or details. In fact, it’s meant to be a sheathe garment on him so he wouldn’t have his undershirt be loose around his thin armor plates under the relatively formless knit robe that the Crystarium made for their combat healers.  


It’s not meant for shaping, flat in the chest meant to keep things _down_ , it’s meant to keep his clothes in line under his combat gear, keep his extraneous flesh steady. It’s less a corset and more like a full torso binder.  


And yet; Haurchefant is staring like his lover is wearing some kind of sex goddess’ lingerie.  


“It’s not even that nice-looking of a chest compressor.” Valentine says with an unimpressed look. He looks down at his clothes knowing already what he’ll see.  


Plain clasps in the front to keep the busk closed, and twisting to look down his back he notes that the grommets are made with plain Gridanian iron and are buffed with wear thanks to the lacing and unlacing of the corset’s round cord – easy to buy in bulk but definitely not the nicest looking or the most infinitely durable – with fraying ends on the laces in question. He would need to cut new lengths of cord eventually before they fully broke but for now it was still functional.  


There are signs of fabric warping around the flexible steel boning’s seams, and on the modesty panel’s seams and the fabric that’s tugged by the grommets’ crisscrossing how he likes to lace himself in. There’s a few spots around the waist where he often has to turn and move roughly during combat that he can clearly see the thin but strong threads stitching the thing together are starting to be visible where the seams are pulled to their near-limit; an indicator that he’ll have to replace it whole soon enough. That the fabric itself is wearing out.  


“Anything you wear is delightful, my dear.” Haurchefant says before grinning, “You also forget Ishgardians are very… Favoring of armor.” They both know how Ishgard regards armor. Valentine may not have _stayed_ in Ishgard past his eighteenth name day when he fled home before the Calamity that wrought Coerthas with eternal blizzards, but he knew well enough the customary ‘Armor is our kink’.  


Haurchefant is a prime example of being attracted to nice, functional and strong armor. Even adventurers who are fresh from Gridania or further yet are well aware of Haurchefant’s wandering eye in Dragonhead. He has a bit of a reputation.  


He also had a leather kink but Valentine recalls the ‘harness-event’ with both fondness and eye-twitching irritancy.  


Valentine shoots him another unimpressed look after breaking out of his thoughts. “Are you trying to imply my undergarments are _armor_.”  


“Well, maybe not _undergarments_ but you wear this particular one with your armor for the function of wearing it with said armor.”  


They’re both dead silent for a long moment before Valentine says, “Haurchefant if you want me in a corset you can just say as much, I wear nicer ones than this one at least. This one’s fraying at the seams.”  


He seems excited by that development at least. “You wear them regularly?”  


“You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?”  


*  


Haurchefant is the most hands-on after learning about the corsets Valentine wears.  


His ‘combat-ready corsets’ were sturdy but also not meant to look nice. Pure function made of metal boning or baleen - he had learned his lesson with the cheap kind from Thanalan that used some kind of plastic bonding - with stiff but twistable fabric.  


He used to wear bandaging to bind his garments under his chain and plates for when he wielded a spear, it wasn’t healthy even back then but he hadn’t realized as much until he had to flee to Ishgard with the surviving Scions.  


_“Ishgard is good for a few things; they know how to make armor comfortable and functional without sacrificing quality, and they produce some nice looking birds.”_ Valentine had said before Haurchefant caught up to the second ‘thing’ and started laughing.  


_“We do produce some very lovely chocobos.”_ Haurchefant waited before asking with a bland tone, _“Anything else we make that’s decent, or does it stop with the birds?”_  


_“Ehh,”_ Valentine rolled his eyes, but he was smirking nonetheless _“They make nice weapons?”_  


Haurchefant sighed but had agreed, _“We do make nice weapons, at the very least our spears are meant to pierce dragonhide.”_  


Valentine’s smirk turned snarkier at that and Haurchefant felt his cheeks heat as the Scion replied, _“Well, you got the spear part right, but they’re not meant for dragon hide.”_  


Sometimes when Haurchefant got Valentine’s shirt open it revealed a combat ready corset. Plain white, plain black, some kind of monotone color that wasn’t absurd with plain iron or steel grommets and busk clasps and tied with easy to replace, strong cord.  


He sometimes wore pretty corsets. Not meant for anything but being pretty. He didn’t like those ones but sometimes sacrifices were necessary. Pastels and bold lace and silks with the proper ribbon lacing through the grommets while covering more of his torso than his combat ready corsets did. More for shaping than securely keeping fabric from catching his limbs.  


This one was _Dravanian_ made however, not by those who followed Ysayle’s creed but by the hunters at Tailfeather. They worked in an active field where getting a sleeve caught on a bow or claws on their fur coverings was either suicide or the loss of a good bird.  


Functional but also designed with the look in mind. It also had a chocobo feather embroidered into the panel over his hip so that was a plus.  


“It’s a shame you can’t take your time, but everything is still in a bit of chaos with the Scions.”  


“I imagine it must be rather hectic over in the Rising Stones with everything that’s happening,” Haurchefant agrees as though he isn’t fucking Valentine over his desk, “though I also have appointments to keep so you being in a slight rush is no problem.”  


Haurchefant had admitted he had a guest coming soon so he needed to make it quick, but he was sorely tempted to cancel that guest’s arrival so he could indulge more readily in his lover. It had been a while since the last visit, though in Valentine’s defense he had been getting the black corset made and hadn’t wanted to make a visit before he had a new piece to show off.  


At least the desk is sturdy, especially after Haurchefant adjusts his angle just a slight bit and starts slamming his thrusts directly into Valentine’s sweet spot. He drops his torso flat onto the desk to bury his face into his arm to muffle his moans. Haurchefant’s guards usually knew to vacate the hall leading to their Commanders’ chambers and office when Valentine came calling, but there had been one overnight visit in which a pair of the _new_ guards hadn’t been told what his visits usually entailed.  


Admittedly he had taken a sort of mortified humor to the event, and later regaling René with the tale had been met with the teasing that maybe lots of Fortemps knights were _“Beholden to perverse secret desires, and mayhap hearing the prowess of their fort Commander was something they were fantasizing over.”_  


Valentine panted into his arm as strong hands dug into the sides of his corset-bound waist and yanked him back bodily into the thrusts that were slowly turning less rhythmic and harsher. Eager to cum within his lover, and when one of those sword-calloused hands retreated from holding the black corset to instead focus some attention of bringing Valentine over the precipice of orgasm, Valentine knew he was also eager to see the man climax too.  


Valentine felt the warmth of Haurchefant’s cum at the same time as when the other Elezen decided to pin him bodily against the desk. Startled as he was he wasn’t quite prepared when his orgasm suddenly crashed into him, whimpering into his arm as he came.  


“For someone who claims to be as much of a bastard as Estinien,” Haurchefant murmured, breaths coming out harsh against Valentine’s neck, “you sure sound adorable when you come.”  


Valentine bit his lip to get some semblance of control back before gritting his teeth, “When I’m not literally dripping with your cum and you’re not about to have to sit through a meeting, I’ll make you regret calling me _cute_.”  


“Perhaps drop-dead gorgeous is more fitting.” Haurchefant idly agrees, hands going to his waist again to squeeze against the boning in his corset. “I wonder how you’ll manage to top this outfit.”  


“With skill and your lack of diverse tastes.” Valentine quipped _immediately_ , though Haurchefant was also quick to pinch his skin just to get Valentine to yelp.


End file.
